


Three's A Crowd

by Saigoat



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blood, Collars, Double Penetration, Frottage, Humiliation, M/M, Past Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Stockholm Syndrome, Threesome - M/M/M, Torture, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:15:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27828826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saigoat/pseuds/Saigoat
Summary: Reek is a greedy, greedy pet... and gluttony is a punishable sin. In Ramsay's book at least.
Relationships: Damon Dance-for-me/Theon Greyjoy, Ramsay Bolton/Damon Dance-for-Me, Ramsay Bolton/Theon Greyjoy
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	Three's A Crowd

**Author's Note:**

> I've been promising this one for a long while. I hope it lives up to expectations lol

Sometimes...in the long, cold hours of the night, Reek would lay awake staring off into the dark as if it might have the answer to a long-forgotten question. Even at its fullest, the moon made no difference in the pitch black that yawned wide before him. The moon wouldn’t want to waste its light on a pitiful creature like him anyhow. It was always so quiet when the realm was sleeping as if the whole world had vanished save for him. Left alone to rot in the silence every night was one of the nearly unbearable parts of existence. Nagging voices gnawed at the back of his mind, louder now, in the tranquil stillness. Trying to focus on the pain made the quiet just a little more tolerable; the ache of being all alone stung worse than any blade could. The solid stone floor pressed unyielding into his tender shoulders, the muscles never seemed to heal all the way before they got ripped anew. In the winter weather, every wound burned like it was fresh and uncontrollable twitching and shivering disturbed the irritated, healing flesh. The season made the ground beneath him like ice, the thin layer of straw littering the dog kennels did nothing to stave off the chill. 

It never stayed quiet for long, he thanked whoever was listening when the footfalls rang outside his cell like a funeral dirge. These steps were not the measured ones of his Master… This gait was uneven and slow. A new kind of panic set in, Were the monsters that lurked in the night back to try and steal him away again? Perhaps it was the Lord of the Dreadfort, here to take away his bastard son’s pitiful plaything. Reek shoved those thoughts away and tried to listen for any kind of clue to whom he owed thanks for this late-night visit. An eternity could have passed in the time it took for the sound to finally reach the kennel he was contained in; He dare not turn to look.

“Get the fuck up, you mangy mutt.” Damon... It was Damon.

He must have gotten lost in the abyss of his thoughts again, and ignoring Master’s compatriots was not taken lightly. The cell door slammed open, shaking the mangled man from his blank state, only whipping around to see the large, hunched figure stomping towards him with purpose. Damon was by no means at all a small man, he towered over Master, and his broad shoulders were intimidating. Though it was a rare occurrence to see him unaccompanied by Ramsay; It was acutely out of character for him to be slinking around the kennels by his lonesome… it put Reek on razor’s edge. A hand wrenched the lithe captive upright, gripping the filthy rags that were the only pathetic excuse for clothes the little thing had.

“Wh-where,” He yelped at the sudden rough handling, “M’Lord… Whe-ere is M-m’lord?”

“You’re asking the wrong question, little rat.” The blond’s hot breath violating his ear with its proximity. Gracelessly, the bastard’s man started dragging him out into the moonlit courtyard.

A frigid stillness enveloped the pair, wrapping their flesh in a wintery embrace. Winter… It stung to think about, holding some kind of old nostalgia for a person who didn’t exist anymore. Winter has come... though it left a soul behind, if what that nasty, wretched Theon even had one; Reek shook the thoughts from his head. It was so very hard to be in the present, focusing on anything, the past didn’t exist and there was no future for a creature like him… So he festered in prolonged absence of thought… Or at least he tried to. It was difficult to try and zone out when his arm was practically being pulled out off as an overly enthusiastic Damon yanked the boy towards their destination. Whatever the hell that might be. Judging by the path the two were taking they were headed straight for the chambers meant for sleep. His heart gave a terrified stutter as it raced in its frail confinement. Reek doesn’t like this game, Reek doesn’t like this game, Reek doesn’t like this game, Tears slowly tracked through the dirt layered on pale skin, poor thing only whimpering to himself. 

It was an unfortunately familiar trudge, into the corridor, straight down the main hall, third left… but their walk diverged… unaccustomed to being anywhere but Masters chambers, he felt his stomach drop. Instead of the large, lavish room the Bolton boasted, Damon shoved a heavy wooden door open to reveal a modest space. No Ramsay in sight.

“Wha-at ar-” The cold stone floor rushed up to slam into his face as he was thrown to the ground with brutal force. Reverberating through his skull, a sickening crack signified the breaking of his nose once again, hot blood leaking from his nostrils. Reek had lost count of the instances he’d fractured the fragile bone; It hardly mattered these days anyhow. Pain was the only constant he knew, sometimes it was a small comfort but this scenario was far from comforting.

“Don’t act like you didn’t expect this.” The bastard’s man was being very confusing, it hurt Reek’s head, “You entertain Ramsay day in and day out, it’s my turn.”

“N-no, please,” Voice shaking, “I want my Master, pl-lease…”

“I have no idea how he puts up with your endless whining.” The other man lowered himself to hover over the crumpled form cowering below him, “You are insufferable.” 

Scrambling backward did nothing to alleviate the horrifying presence Damon harbored, he stalked forward, swiping a large hand out to pin frail wrist to the hard flooring. Reek’s chest ached, his throat closing up in terror; Every nerve fired off at once, his eye watering and twitching relentlessly. The brute wrenched him up by his wirey limb, nearly tearing it from it’s socket, he led, or rather dragged, the former Greyjoy to the small straw filled bed. The woolen blankets made his fevered skin crawl, itchy and uncomfortably warm. With a great hunger, his tormentor fell upon him… biting at the scarred skin at his throat and kissing down his collarbone. Reek wept, intimacy was for Master only and his stomach roiled at the thought of anyone else touching him that way.

Sweaty palms roamed under disheveled rags that hung loosly on the boy’s skeletal form, pulling the garments from his body in one smooth motion. Damon was quick with a whip and a cruel joke but steady and measured when it came to stroking the Bolton’s pet. Tweaking and pulling at his remaining nipple until it stood firm, leaving a ring of hickeys around his neck just below the choking, red collar that never seemed to leave Reek’s neck. Fingertips ran over the outline of his hipbones, jutting out as a temple to malnourishment.

“Sir, I beg you,” He sobbed beneath the ministrations that made their way alarmingly lower. “Reek wants to be good, and M’Lord will be c-cross at…ah-”

Damon let a low growl rumble in his prey’s ear, ghosting a hand over the gnarled scar between its legs. “Shut the fuck up.”

Shivers shot up his spine, his stomach knotting itself; with weak arms he feebly pushed against his attacker, trying to move away from the sickening contact. It felt so futile, the blond was much bigger than himself and well fed in comparison. A rabbit scrabbling below a starved coyote, A mouse wiggling in the clutches of a hawk. Just as quickly, his breeches were gone, shucked from his marred legs and forgotten on the floorboards. Against his thigh, Reek could feel the other man’s excitement...persistent and impatient, it was stiff under his clothing. Without a barrier, Damon prodded a thick finger against his entrance, lazily circling the ring of muscle like he was enticing a lover to moisten. 

“You don’t have to pretend you don’t like it, Ramsay isn’t here, sweetheart.” The tone was not as comforting as he had meant it to be. Not in the slightest.

“Reek is loyal! R-reek is a loyal dog, he promises…” A useless mantra that did little to stop the man from pushing a digit into his hole and thrusting idly from tip to knuckle and back again. A second finger quickly joined its counterpart, stretching none-to-gently.

“Gods, you’re still so fucking sloppy, I bet the boss bends you over every hour of the day.” He breathed huskily, “I would if I were in his place...a personal sex toy…to use whenever the mood struck.”

With that sentiment a third inside his captive mutt, it pulled a groan from the boy’s lips; On the cusp of pain and pleasure, the sensitive place’s memories reserved for Master and all the times he’d used it. His eyelids fluttered shut, recollections of good and bad playing on repeat, he’d been sure that they’d been locked away...shoved to the darker crevices of the remainder of his mind. Flickers of touches and biting, dirty, whispered promises...promises kept. Master. He moaned openly.

“Enjoying yourself, Reek?” His heart stopped dead in its tracks, the leisurly bootsteps sucked the very breath from his lungs. A stacato announcing his funeral. Damon however did not stop his wandering, unfazed by his superiors voice.

“N-no...No…No.” Reek let a warbled whimper finish his sentence, already resigned to the punishment he deserved. He’d let someone use him, someone who wasn’t his Lord. Reek deserved whatever stalked towards him.  
“Don’t stop having fun on my account, darling.” Ramsay made it to the mangy bed, looking down through his lashes to survey his creature’s features. “Betrayal is a beautiful look on you.”

“See Rams, I knew he wou-”

“Keep your mouth shut, Damon.” The venom was potent.

Though the atmosphere was laden with tension, the blond man’s fingers kept moving, Reek’s twitching legs stayed unsteady, weakly propped against Damon’s shoulders. The fight left his body at the first rumble of his kidnapper’s voice. 

“M’Lord…” He choked out.

“Don’t ‘M’Lord’ me you filthy vermin.” There was a difference in the lilt of his voice. “I know you’re a greedy animal by nature, one cock couldn’t ever satisfy you, could it?”

With the Bolton hovering over his henchman’s shoulder and said man bearing down on him with teeth and hands alike it was dizzying and mortifying all at once. Ice cold eyes never left his charges figure, a plan had long been schemed… already set in motion long ago. It was a chess game Reek wasn’t privy to and probably never would be. Lighting flashed behind his eyelids, his back arching away from the rough blankets like they were on fire. He gasped for air, a drowning sailor in a bright ocean.

“Was that the spot, little one?” Like honey dripping in his ear.

Mewling, he couldn’t help push against the assault on his entrance; It was better to play the game than ask about the rules. His skin was practically melting off, screwing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth lessened the brunt of the damage his psyche was suffering in the turmoil of humiliation of having two full grown men molest him like a bar maid. The air smelled like sweat and fear… like sex. A second set of hands crept under his frail form, lifting Reek up as if he weighed no more that a sheet of parchment. Damon gave way to the motion, letting Ramsay slip under the trembling man’s body to situate himself in an advantageous position beneath him. His Master’s heartbeat thrummed rythmically against his spine, chest glued to his spine as the bastard clung to him like a child would a ratty teddy bear. 

“You see, pet.” His gravelly voice threatened, “I am an generous man, and what kind of Master would I be if i couldn’t oblige my servants wishes.”

“Please-” A thick hand cupped over his mouth stifiling his airflow.

“No need to beg, I know what you want, Reek.”

Pinned between them, he could feel their growing lengths urgently rub against him. Suffocating fingers roamed all over, touching, pinching, tweaking...it was all so overwhelming; Fighting it just made their rutting more fervent, eagerness apparent in the husky breaths they shared over his shoulder. A vice grip encircled his hips, twisting the boy around to face the dark haired menace plotting beneath him; Damon’s digits left him, the empty feeling awkward but relieving. Daring to look in the frigid tundra that were his Lord’s eyes, he searched for an answer, a solution to the problem he found himself squished betwixt. There was nothing but an unspoken command to obey.

“R-reek is lo-loyal…” A hushed promise, tears rolled down slowly, face red in degredation.

“I found you being fingered by my man,” He chuckled, readying himself at the brunet’s hole, “You expect me to believe you didn’t wiggle you’re puny ass at him, begging for a taste of his prick?”

Damon’s hot breath wetted his nape, his chest suffocating the skin on Reek’s back, irritating bruises and cuts alike. His wicked smile curled against the former Greyjoys neck, clearly getting a laugh out of his boss’ ribbing. When Ramsay shoved his cock into him with one brutal thrust, the whole world was eaten by a blackness. Pain shot through his bones and a fire burned at his insides; every cell crying out in unison. A strangled sob clogged his throat, an amalgamation of begging, apologizing, and promises tumbled from chapped lips. Blood trickling from newly healed wounds torn open in the rending of his ‘woman’s gash’ one of the flattering nicknames Bolton gave his entrance.

“Tight as the day I deflowered you.”

With his spindly legs spread around Ramsay’s thighs it rendered him immobile, unable to adjust to take the girth at a more comfortable angle. He was left to the will of the two men riping him apart inch by inch. Fingers played at his torn hole, Reek’s eyes went wide with horror. The dullard had finally caught on to their lovely game, and they knew it. Sharing a knowing look, the pair continue the onslaught. Ramsay’s rough hands held open his captives thighs, giving the other man easy access to its quivering entrance, already stretched wide with his Master’s cock. Damon managed two more fingers before Reek was arching away, weeping for mercy. 

“Shh Shh Shh, It will only hurt more if you squirm. Be still.” The reprimand was firm, sending fear trickling down his spine.

“Aren’t you used to be bent over and fucked by now?” Damon hissed, ramming another inside without grace … or patience for that matter.

Reek gnawed on his cheek, the warmth filling his mouth was surley blood. Just another scar to line his mouth. Just another scar. Ramsay idly ground his hips in a small circle, biting at his pet’s throat, admiring the collar with lewd comments pouring from his toothy maw; Each thrust matched with a withering cry from the receiving party. Though it was little...he did know some things. Reek knew he was a disgusting little wretch, he knew his place. But...But to be reduced to a sex toy was the last straw of humiliation. Any grain of dignity he held in his mangled hand was torn away when Damon Replaced his fingers with the head of his member and every so steadily pushed in alongside Master. He was just an ugly doll, there to please and obey. A cocksleeve. In tandum the men took turns shoving up into him.

“Such a good boy. Do you feel better now that your cunt is full?” A whimper came in response, feebly trying not to pull away from the agony.

The blond seated behind him took a twisting grip on grimy hair and jerked his head back with a violent sweep of his arm. “He asked you a question, whore. How does it feel?”

“I-i AH! It fe-feels,” Each word took a tremendous amount of energy to muster, “Reek l-loves you inside him, Ma-aster.”

Pale fingertips traced his adam’s apple, lightly brushing over the scarred bite marks left behind from previous endevours. His voice chimed happily, “Don’t leave out Damon, you might hurt his feelings, sweetling.”

Eyes wet, mouth agape, each thrust shook his whole frame, “I need i-it...M’lord, both of yo-our...” He choked out a sob, embarrassment a raging inferno in his chest, “your th-thick cocks.”

The fighting voices scratching at the back of his mind ridiculed him for stooping so low, To let these men violate and humiliate him. But...but...but Reek had no fight left, the battle had long been whipped out of him, flayed off his bones, burned from his skin. Reek is obedient. Reek is subservient. Reek wants to keep the rest of his fingers; There were worse things than saying dirty things to appease the demons clawing at his innards. Self preservation was a shaky endeavor at best, but all he had left in this horrific world he dwelled in. 

Warmth pooled in Ramsay’s lap, the rips in his pet’s ass drooling crimson in a plethora. Greyjoy had his remaining fingers curled around his forearms, holding on for dear life; His face buried in Ramsay’s nape, shallow gasps heating his skin. It only spurred him on, coltish pace picking up to a vicious roar. Animalistic and hungry, Ramsay kept the boy flush to his hips as he ruined his entrance with the rigorous slapping of skin. Damon had no trouble keeping up with the Bolton’s momentum, more interested in the pleasure swelling in his stomach than tearing the gaunt boy asunder. His teeth sunk into the tender flesh of his shoulder, coaxing a new flow of blood to drip down the pale skin streched tight over Reek’s every bone.

“Oh dearest, you look so helpless stuffed to the brim like this.” Ramsay pressed a biting kiss to his creature’s forehead. “It’s cruel to keep you to myself, isn’t it?”

The spot inside him that bastard so loved to prod kept sparking with every other thrust, mingling with the pure suffering drowning Reek in it’s relentless waves. The henchman behind him stuttered in his pace when Reek bore down on the two within him, filling the mutt with his seed and warmth. Damon kept still for a moment, grunting obsenities in his ear as he finished his satisfaction.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head.” His voice letting on it’s playful grin as he pulled out, “There is more where that came from.”

The room suddenly felt claustrophobic, the presences of Ramsay’s men clogging the atmosphere. When had they gotten there? How long had they been watching his torment like some sick side show? 

“You won’t have to be empty ever again, Reek.” another man already lining himself up behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it and feel free to leave a comment or criticism, I always love feedback! Tumblr @ saigoat


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